


Thin Air

by Phantom_Ice



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: (maybe), (or maybe not), Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Canon Compliant, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Hallucinations, Mental Health Issues, Natsume Takashi Protection Squad, Natsume Takashi's Terrible Childhood, Neurological Disorders, Open to Interpretation, Psychosis, Slice of Life, True Love, ambiguous:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18421755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom_Ice/pseuds/Phantom_Ice
Summary: There are obvious conclusions to be made about Natsume Takashi."Who's he talking to?" "There's no one there" "Unstable"The people of Natsume's new home make those conclusions the same as everyone else. The difference lies somewhere else."Take your time" "Do you need help?" "So what?"





	1. Touko

**Author's Note:**

> because there is an idea that the worst way to take the knowledge that Natsume can see things other people don't is to think that he's 'crazy.' His friends, of course, "would never think that!".  
> To which the people of this fic say: "and so what if he is?" (ง＾_・)ง

It had seemed strange to Touko, at first, how many of Takashi’s former 'caretakers' called Takashi a liar or attention seeking. When she had first heard it when Shigeru had brought news of the boy home along with the warnings from his relatives, the two of them had agreed that any attention seeking was probably a natural effect of emotional neglect. She promised herself that she would give him enough room to be heard and seen that he would never feel he had to act out. They would pay him all the attention he needed.

That turned out to be a less encompassing endeavor than they had prepared for.

Takashi asked for no attention at all. Even a normal amount had him curling in on himself like he didn’t want to be seen.

Over time, Touko did come to notice Takashi didn’t always answer questions clearly or completely. He came home with scraped palms or in jumpy moods, but would never offer anything more than an ‘I fell.’ So he wasn’t a paragon of honesty, but to call him a liar? For something she more than suspected to be the result of his time with the same people who said those things? To call this behavior 'attention seeking' when he always tried to get cleaned up and out of her way before she could so much as ask about it?

For the first two weeks after taking in Takashi, Touko’s prominent state was one of honest confusion.

A liar?

Attention seeking?

Touko was almost tempted to call up those relatives and ask them exactly what boy they had in their house, because it wasn’t Natsume Takashi.

And then one day she remembered another word they used: ‘unstable;’ and things began to make an unfortunate amount of sense.

“Takashi-kun, would you like more rice?”

“No thank you.” Takashi’s head tilted towards her and their eyes meet for a split-second. The strain of that contact was so obvious in Takashi's eyes that it was no surprise when they dropped back to the floor under the weight of it. Touko’s heart ached.

“Are you sure?” Shigeru asked. It was the first time Takashi had finished all the rice on his plate. It was important he knew he could ask for more.

“Yes. Thank you,” he said to his empty bowl.

Touko was looking right at him, so she saw exactly what happened. Takashi managed to drag his eyes up to attempt eye contact again, but this time he froze. His eyes looked past her, alight with an alarm that had her turning around to check behind her.

When she turned back, Takashi was looking down at his plate again, but his shoulders were tightened higher up his frame they had been a moment ago.

“May I be excused?” He asked in a small voice.

Touko and Shigeru hesitated for a moment, glancing at each other and reaching the same conclusion.

“Of course,” Shigeru said.

“Thank you.” Takashi dipped his head before hurrying from the room and up the stairs.

Touko and Shigeru turned back to each other.

“He just needs time,” Shigeru assured her, misreading the cause of her apprehension.

“I know, it’s not that…”

He took another bite of his food with a question in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m probably being silly… it just, it seems like something spooked him, is all,”

Shigeru hummed. “It seemed like the question made him uncomfortable.”

No, she didn’t think that was it. “I don’t know... It’s probably all in my head,”

“I’m sure that’s not true. But whatever it is we have to wait for him to come to us with it.”

Touko agreed and they finished their meal talking about other things.

But after that pieces began to add up.

“Please let me help, Touko-san,”

“Oh! Takashi-kun! Hello! Thank you.” Touko passed him one of her grocery bags as they met up on the path home together.

Halfway back, Takashi made his first sound after the initial request.

“Oh! Um, good afternoon,”

Touko turned in confusion, mouth open with a half-formed answer. But Takashi wasn't looking at her. He was doing the same thing he did with her where his head darted up in an attempt at eye contact, but he was aiming the look at empty air above a low wall.

Touko fiddled with the strap of her remaining bag. She only opened her mouth after his attention was back on the path.

“Who were you talking to?”

“Hmm? Just that gir--” His voice cut off. He had turned to look back at the space from before, and his entire body froze for a moment. When he looked back at her he had bunched up his shoulders and his head dipped low. “No one.” Touko had to lean in to hear him.

“Okay.” She tried for her most accepting voice. She hoped it conveyed how little it mattered to her that he had made that mistake.

Because by now, after three weeks, the truth was obvious.

When Touko had been a girl, she had an elderly neighbor named Katski-san. Katski-san loved children. She always offered Touko and the other kids small homemade tokens like wristbands or finger puppets or candies. She lived alone, but Tanaka-san, a young bride from down the street, spent most of the day at Katski-san’s home.

Some days, as Touko got home, Katski-san would look at her with a kind smile and ask her if she had lived there long. Touko had lived next to Katski-san her whole life. Some days she would ask Touko who her friend was, looking at the empty space next to her.

Once, late at night, a commotion outside woke Touko up. Peeking through her window, she saw Katski-san yelling in her front lawn, still in her house slippers and backed against the wall. Alarmed, Touko had run down the hall to get her mother, who had put on her own shoes and rushed outside. Touko watched from the window, but instead of going to Katski-san, Touko’s mother ran down the block to knock on the Tanaka’s door.

Within a few minutes, Touko’s mom was following Tanaka-san back to Katski-san’s yard. She waited by the gate while Tanaka-san approached Katski-san with measured steps.

Touko couldn’t tell exactly what was happening, but Katski-san and Tanaka-san started speaking. Then, to Touko’s shock, kind-hearted Katski-san shoved Tanaka-san. The younger woman almost fell over the low walls bordering the property. Touko’s mom started to rush forward, but Tanaka-san made a stop motion. She didn’t seem upset. Instead, she caught Katski-san’s attention again. Katski-san shouted, and Tanaka-san stopped and sat down on the lawn still a fair distance away. They spoke for what seemed, to a young Touko, an eternity. Katski-san became less and less loud and agitated as the conversation continued.

When Tanaka-san approached a second time, Katski-san allowed herself to be lead back inside. Touko’s mom headed back to their house, where a wide-eyed Touko went to greet her by the front door.

They were quiet as her mom changed her shoes, Touko pulling on her fingers one by one as she searched for the words. What she had seen had scared her. Why would Katski-san act like that? Why would Tanaka-san stay after Katski-san had pushed her?

“Mama,” Touko started as her list of questions grew too long, “what happened? Why did Katski-san do that to Tanaka-san?”

Her mother looked at her, and put a gentle hand on her shoulder, leading Touko to the kitchen table.

“Sit down, dear. Let’s have some tea.” Her mother set some to boil and step and sat down with her as they waited, brushing out Touko’s hair and tying it back up. When the kettle whistled she brought it to the table and poured Touku a cup, prompting her to take a sip.

It was gyokuro, a special green tea that had been a gift from one of her dad’s friends. Warmth radiated from Touku’s stomach to her fingers and toes. She sunk back onto her ankles as her mom poured her own cup.

“Do you know what Tanaka does for a living?” Her mom asked.

“She works? But she’s always at Katski-san’s house,”

“She used to be a nurse. After she married she became a professional caretaker. She takes care of Katski-san and helps her to live mostly on her own,”

“Because she’s old? Sometimes she doesn’t remember me, or she asks weird questions,”

“Yes. But Katski-san has other needs.” Her mom paused, looking away for a moment with pursed lips before looking back at Touko. “You know how dreams seem real even if the things in the dreams don’t make any sense?” Touko nodded. “Well, sometimes Katski-san sees dream things, like monsters or sounds or other people, even when she’s awake, and she can’t always tell that they aren’t real, even if they don’t make sense,”

“So… that’s what happened? Katski-san was seeing a monster and didn’t know it wasn’t real?” Touko’s mom nodded, “But why was she mean to Tanaka-san?”

“Tanaka helps her tell when things are real, but sometimes it is very hard for Katski-san to be sure, or sometimes it is just impossible for her to believe Tanaka because she is seeing something different. What happened wasn’t Katski-san’s fault, she’s trying very hard to be as healthy as she can be. I’m sure she’s very sorry and will apologize to Tanaka.”

Touko fiddled with her cup, tapping her fingers against the plain edge.

“... could she do that to me one day?”

Touko’s mom took a breath and put her cup down on the table.

“It could happen. But I want you to remember Touko that the person being most hurt by this is Katski-san. It is very hard and scary for her to deal with this, but she still does her best to be kind. What’s happening isn’t her fault. How would you feel if people stopped talking to you for something that scared you and wasn’t your fault?”

“I would be sad,”

“Right. So would Katski-san. Sometimes people with Katski-san’s problem aren’t treated nice, because people don’t understand and are scared of what she sees. But that’s not a nice thing to do. There's no reason to be afraid. You did the right thing today by getting me, and I went to get Tanaka,”

Touko took another warm sip as she considered that for a moment. Katski-san was always nice to her, despite the weird questions. She wanted them to keep being friends.

“But what if I’m alone and something happens?”

“If that happens, you don’t have to be scared. Instead...”

That was Touko’s first introduction to mental illness. As she got older she would better understand the details. She would learn words like ‘dementia’ and ‘psychosis.’ She would watch Katski-san deteriorate and one day Touku would realize she was the last of the neighborhood kids who would still visit. She would see how sad Katski-san was some days. She would see how other people stopped making eye-contact, how they would pretend not to see Katski-san when she acted differently.

And as she walked with Takashi, Touko could picture it. She could picture a small boy with non-traditional features pointing out monsters that weren’t there with an intense fervor. She could imagine any attempt to persuade him differently met with screaming and crying and even meltdowns. She could imagine that boy being unnerving in his certainty. She could imagine him scared and confused and alone.

What she couldn’t imagine was being faced with any of that, and somehow thinking that boy, that terrified little boy, was lying. She couldn’t imagine being faced with that and being so self-centered as to think yourself the victim.

Because the truth was obvious.

Natsume Takashi sometimes saw things that weren’t there.

To deny him help and treat him as anything other than the kind gentle boy he was because of that was disgusting.

Touko thought of all those whispering relatives. The ones who called him a liar because they couldn’t be bothered to comfort what must have been a terrified child, all those people who made him feel like he couldn’t tell his truth, who must have seen the obvious signs and turned the other way rather than getting him help, all those people who let this go undiagnosed for fifteen years because they couldn’t be bothered. Touko thought of those people and felt, from the depths of her heart, the saddest type of anger.

“How was school?” She asked instead of expressing any of that. She felt accomplished when Takashi’s hands unfurled.

They made it home and Takashi disappeared upstairs. Touko opened a drawer in the kitchen filled with things like recipes and receipts. On top was a post-it note with the number to a neurologist in the city copied in neat marker. Touko picked it up and looked up the stairway, contemplating once again how to bring it up.

She dropped the paper and closed the drawer with a heartbroken sigh before bracing herself. It would be difficult, it might hurt him, but Touko refused to be another adult who had failed Takashi. It was criminal to make him think he needed to live his whole life dealing with this when there might be ways to help. She didn’t know much about modern medicine, but she knew it had made incredible leaps since Touku’s childhood living beside Katski-san. Takashi needed help.

But first, he needed to know there was no shame in needing help, that it didn’t say anything negative about him. That it didn’t make him a liar.

After so many years of people telling him the opposite, she didn't know if that day would ever come.


	2. Shigeru

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shigeru finds Takashi-kun curled up in a shrine and scared to go home.
> 
> "Do you mind if I sit here for a while?"

Every day on the walk back from work, Shigeru passed the chipped steps leading up to a certain shrine. He hadn’t been up them in years, but, as a boy, he had semi-often found himself under the small wooden roof at the top. Regardless, it wasn’t nostalgia that caused him to pause at the bottom of the steps that day.

The orange sneaker lying on its side halfway up did.

The footwear looked like it had fallen off and its wearer hadn’t put it back on before continuing their climb up the rough steps.

Touching his phone through his pocket, Shigeru considered the fact his last call was from Touko, worrying that Takashi wasn’t home yet. He had told her not to fuss. Takashi spent a lot of time outside of the house. He valued his freedom, and Shigeru didn’t want him to feel constricted by people he had only met three weeks ago.

He could be wrong, maybe the orange glow of the sunset played tricks on his eyes, but Shigeru thought the sneaker looked too much like it belonged upright with its partner in his family genkan.

Wishing for the body of a younger man, Shigeru began his trek up the stairs, picking up the shoe as he passed just in case. Close up he could see the worn but clean canvas material. Though the sneaker had seen a full life, it hadn’t been abandoned there long.

At the top, only a few grassy meters separated Shigeru and the familiar wooden roof. Underneath it, a pale head of hair reflected the pink-orange light of the sky. The body to whom it belonged curled up so that only the black uniform, head of hair, and the hands on either side of said head could be seen.

“Takashi-kun?” It wasn’t much of a question. That pale shade wasn’t something that anyone would call common in the area.

Takashi didn’t move at first, and Shigeru wondered if he was asleep, though he didn’t know how he could be. Not only was Takashi's position tight and uncomfortable looking, but a cold chill enveloped the shrine that couldn't be felt down on the street. Shivers raced along Shigeru’s spine and breezes played with his hair and tie.

“Takashi-kun?” He tried again, louder.

This time, the boy’s head shot up out of his arms. Still, he didn’t look at Shigeru right away. Instead, his eyes scanned the field from left to right, like someone searching a crowd.

“Shigeru-san?” He asked without focusing on Shigeru. Then he winced, head ducking like it wanted to crawl back into the quiet created by his arms and knees.

“Good evening, Takashi-kun,” Shigeru said. It caused Takashi to finally look at the space where Shigeru was standing, but he did so with vague glassy eyes. It looked a bit like a symptom of low blood sugar. Did Shigeru have any food on him? “What are you doing here?” Shigeru asked while he tried to remember.

Takashi looked around again like he couldn’t see or hear Shigeru not ten feet away in an empty field. Shigeru had a candy bar in his suitcase, a small gift for Touko. No doubt she wouldn’t mind it being given for an important cause.

Takashi lifted himself off the ground and stood up on his toes, one foot covered only by a sock. He looked back and forth one last time before his eyes meet Shigeru’s and he froze.

“Shigeru-san!” Takashi’s unsteady voice bled concern. It was also louder than Shigeru had ever heard it, inappropriately so for the otherwise quiet area. The boy lurched like he wanted to walk forward, but stopped himself before he did. Then his head jerked back and forth before coming back to Shigeru. “Could you please come all the way in?”

All the way in? Assuming Takashi meant into the shrine, Shigeru took a few more steps forward under the red doorway that marked the blessed ground. The air was warmer and the wind almost non-existent on this side, easily attributed to the bushes and trees acting as a buffer.

As Shigeru walked, Takashi’s entire body unwound a few degrees and his eyes focused on Shigeru, to Shigeru’s relief.

“I… uh… I…” Tadashi, as was normal for the boy, looked at every part of Shigeru except his eyes. As he approached, Shigeru noticed Takashi’s hands shaking.

“Here you go.” Shigeru held out Takashi’s missing sneaker, trying to tell the boy he didn’t need to scramble for an excuse. Shigeru wouldn't pry.

“Oh, thank you,” Takashi said to the ground as he dipped into a light and unnecessary bow. He flinched midway through, like someone had set off a firework beside his head.

“It’s almost time for dinner. Do you want to walk back home with me?”

Takashi’s eyes shot behind Shigeru. Because of their proximity and the light color of Takashi’s iris, Shigeru could see them dilate in what, combined with the hitch in his voice, he could only describe as a fear response.

“I… no, thank you, Shigeru-san,” he said, voice more pleading than speaking.

Touku had shared some of her concerns with Shigeru, and he had seen a little of what she had, but he also thought Takashi's jumpiness could the result of other factors. Shigeru had considered options like nerves and insecurity. 

This wasn’t nerves or insecurity.

Takashi was terrified. He was terrified to the point that it interfered with his ability to live his life. And none of their relatives had caught it.

Or, rather, they had. The fact that Takashi refused to say anything about it now more than demonstrated that they had. It would be more accurate to say that no one had cared enough to say anything helpful.

Shigeru walked over and sat himself down on the grass beside where Takashi stood.

“Shigeru-san?”

“I missed this place a bit, do you mind if I sit here with you for a while?”

“No,”

“Thank you.”

Takashi nodded and after a moment sat back down as well, fiddling with the sneaker but not putting it on. Shigeru took out his phone.

“I’m going to call Touku, she's worried about you,”

“Oh. Sorry for the trouble,”

“It’s not trouble. But could you let us know if you plan to stay out late from now on?”

“... Okay.” He sounded unsure, possibly over his ability to do that. If something ‘chased’ him here as Shigeru suspected, Shigeru understood why it might be difficult for Takashi to keep them updated. In a way, Takashi's promise was a lie. But not for any reason their relatives would try to attribute to him.

“Thank you. It’s not your fault. We should get you a phone soon so you can stay in touch,” Shigeru decided.

“That’s not necessary.” Takashi stopped fiddling with his sneaker and looked up, lifting his hands as if to stop Shigeru.

“Think of it as for our own peace of mind,” Shigeru negotiated while listening to the phone ring. Takashi paused for a moment, looking concerned, but nodded and instead started to put his shoe back on. As he lifted the tongue, he jerked back and dropped it like he had been startled. Takashi’s position when Shigeru had arrived came back to Shigeru, and in an epiphany, he realized Takashi had been placing his hands to cover his ears. He must have auditory hallucinations as well.

After a second, Takashi picked the shoe up again and darted his eyes to Shigeru who pretended not to notice.

Shigeru assured Touko everything was okay and watched Takashi struggle with the sneaker. It was obvious how much Takashi tried not to glance at something that he could hear around the barrier.

Shigeru, on the other hand, heard nothing but the trees swaying and a faint rumble as he hung up the phone. In a second, he realized the sound as Takashi’s stomach grumbling. How long had Takashi had been sitting here? Since school ended? That was more than four hours ago. What kind of fear could compel someone to do that? It hurt, to know how unnecessary it was. Shigeru wanted to attribute it to cruel luck that Takashi had to live like this, but that would misrepresent the facts. It was cruel luck and clear neglect. Shigeru opened his briefcase and took out the chocolate bar.

“Here you go.” He handed it to a confused Takashi.

“Thank you.” The relief in his tone rang clear. Was it there because of the candy or because Shigeru didn’t ask why he didn’t go home for dinner instead?

Shigeru had to admit he didn’t know what to do in situations like this. He didn’t know if he should tell Takashi he was hallucinating or if Shigeru should play along or if either of those would make it worse. He thought of the girl he once knew who, looking back on it as an adult, was probably in a similar situation to Takashi. The only think Shigeru knew for certain was that Takashi was scared, and the best thing Shigeru had seen comfort scared children was distraction.

“You know, I used to visit this shrine a lot as a boy,” he said.

The non-sequitur caused Takashi to freeze and then furrow his brow, but his mouth unhinged bit by bit until Shigeru got a soft,

“Really? Why?”

“Honestly, mostly to get out of the rain,” Shigeru laughed, remembering cloudy days under this same awning pouting at the sky. Takashi cracked a smile and Shigeru felt accomplished. “Behind us there’s a shortcut me and some friends used to take, so this was the easiest place to go when it began to rain. Thinking about it now, that was more of a long way home than a shortcut. But walking through the woods seemed more fun,”

“You walked through these woods a lot?” Takashi asked, eyes darting around and hands tightening on his sleeves.

“All the time, as a boy,”

“That’s dangerous.” Takashi breathed his words more than he spoke them, their sound dissipating into the arms resting on his knees.

The violent crime rate in this part of the country hovered near zero. The wild animals didn’t come much larger than foxes. As Takashi scanned the perimeter, curling in tighter and hands rising to his ears again, Shigeru didn’t argue the point.

“We all do silly things as children, I suppose,” he said instead. “What do you like to do, Takashi-kun?” He asked, speaking louder and trying to draw back Takashi’s attention. At the very least, Takashi’s eyes dropped to Shigeru’s chin instead of whatever caused him to tremble.

“I don’t need anything.”

“But what do you like to do? Even just to pass the time?” Shigeru insisted.

“Oh. Um… I like to take walks,”

“I like walks too. They’re relaxing.” Takashi gave an unsure nod. “What kind of places do you like to walk best?”

“Places?”

“Rivers, forests, maybe cities?”

“... fields,”

Shigeru hoped that was Takashi’s way of saying he liked it here in their boring countryside.

“Why’s that?”

Takashi shrugged again. "No surprises." Shigeru hummed. To his own surprise, Takashi forced his eyes up at that, looking panicked. “And I, um, used to like drawing, when I was younger, calligraphy.” This time the words spilled out like they couldn’t come fast enough... like the prospect of what would happen if he didn’t get them out in time frightened him. Shigeru forced himself to smile.

“That’s interesting. I’ve never been very good at calligraphy myself. You should show me your lettering sometime.”

Color snuck up Takashi’s neck and settled on his cheeks.

“I haven’t practiced in a long time.” He began to pluck at the fabric of his sleeves instead of burying his head in them.

“That’s okay. I’d still like to see if you want to share. Do you have a calligraphy set?”

“I… no. Not anymore,”

“Okay,” Shigeru said instead of just humming, not wanting to alarm Takashi again. He tried not to imagine what history hid behind ‘not anymore’ and Takashi's fear of vague responses. A month with him and Shigeru was starting to think far less of their relatives than he already had. “Maybe we could find a set. I think Nishigora-san mentioned having an old set he wanted to give away.” Shigeru would be glad to buy a new one-- he hadn’t seen Takashi partaking in a single hobby at home so far-- but Shigeru knew any mention of spending more money on Takashi would make him uncomfortable. Takashi still looked uncomfortable for a moment but ended up giving a small smile.

The sky above them had gone from pink-orange to a darkening gray as night approached. Shigeru swiped at a mosquito that landed on his hand.

“It’s a perfect half moon,” he noted, looking up at the sky. Takashi lifted his head to look as well but never got that far. Instead, his eyes hooked onto the edges of the clearing and did a double take. Shigeru didn’t say anything as the boy stood up, shoulders stiff, and began to walk around the clearing, looking in every direction like a stray cat checking around corners. When he finished he looked back at Shigeru and then darted his face away.

“I was looking at the trees,” he lied.

“They’re nice this time of year,” Shigeru agreed with a smile.

Takashi nodded.

“I think I’m ready to go now,”

“Okay. Me too.” Shigeru stood and brushed himself off, stretching his back with a few audible clicks. Ah, when did he get so old?

As they walked back home together, Shigeru reflected on what had happened. Takashi had been trapped, and likely chased to, that shrine by his hallucinations. The shrine itself, Shigeru guessed, had some barricading power. He didn’t know if it was a natural result of the cleansed grounds or a power given to it only by Takashi’s mind. Not being particularly spiritual, Shigeru was inclined to the latter, but in the end, it didn’t matter. The point was, whatever the reason, the shrine had made Takashi feel safe. Was there a way to capture that effect? Would talismans and charms help? He had heard a priest was moving back into town, perhaps he could cleanse their home. Whatever he could find to help Takashi feel safe there would be well worth the effort.

And a few weeks later, Takashi found one such solution for himself.

“Can... I keep him? I’m sorry for the trouble.”

More than a couple of weeks into their custody and it was the first thing Takashi had asked Touko and Shigeru for. That included asking for seconds or more blankets or where the dishes were kept or anything at all that would make his life more comfortable.

Asking for a pet was a large and sudden jump, but that could only mean that it was important to Takashi. They had the room and Touko always made too much food. How could they say no?

“He’s fat for a stray.”

“Shigeru!” Touko swatted his shoulder with her adorable giggle, “don’t say that. Look, you hurt his feelings.” To Shigeru’s amusement, the cat in Takashi’s arms did seem to choose that moment to snort and look in another direction. “I’m sure he’s just fluffy.”

He was fat.

“We’ll ask around. But if no one claims him and if you promise to take proper care of him, you can keep him, Takashi-kun.”

Takashi stared at him and blinked for a few moments. He'd been getting better at eye contact over the last few weeks, but this still might have been the longest he had ever maintained it. It upset Shigeru that the reason laid in such disproportional surprise, as if no one had ever told him yes.

“Thank you.”

Next time Shigeru saw Takashi start at thin air and stumble backward as if to run, the cat darted forward and spun a few circles. Takashi relaxed and continued walking forward, right through the space he had seemed so alarmed by a moment ago.

It wasn’t a solution, but until he and Touko could talk to Takashi about this, it would be enough. At the very least, Takashi smiled as he met up with his new friends at the end of the block.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shigeru is so quiet but also so clearly supportive. It's great.
> 
> thanks for the lovely reviews last chapter. I really appreciated knowing that others have needed the same itch scratched in regards to how the people around Natsume see him.
> 
> Also, #givenatsumeahobby2k19


	3. Kitamoto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitamoto relishes simplicity. Things that lay outside of that domain had the potential to be unnerving.  
> Natsume is not simple.

People described Atsushi as level headed.

(One had to be level headed to reign in the likes of Nishimura-- Yes, he did reign him in. Never mind that they tended to stir up trouble together. Chances were Nishimura had some even wilder idea before Atsushi stepped in, thank you very much). So people described Atsushi as level headed and they were right.

(And one had to be level headed when their father was too sick to work full-time and their mother scrambled from job to job with a strained smile and they had to keep their little sister in the dark as much as possible because she deserved a childhood free from grown-up concerns).

Atsushi was level headed. He somewhat prided himself on his ability to take care of his peers with uncomplicated and direct solutions. 

(If Sasada is stressing out over her already immaculate school work, organize a study session so she realizes she understands the material better than anybody. If Nishimura is having trouble with his mom, invite him over for games or movies, etcetera, etcetera).

Atsushi could use reason and a calm logic to get himself and his friends out of any problem.

That was why, if Atsushi was being honest with himself, Natsume scared him.

Natsume scared him because Atsushi didn’t know what to do when Nishimura pointed to Natsume standing on a bridge. Natsume scared him because Atsushi could feel his heart in his throat as Natsume scrambled too close to the edge and then straight up to stand on the thin railing. Natsume scared him because when he fell back into the water Atsushi remembered that Natsume didn’t know how to ride a bike and wondered for a moment if there was even a chance he had learned how to swim. Natsume scared him because Atsushi couldn’t breathe until he had followed Nishimura’s thoughtless rush into the water and helped a breathing Natsume back to shore.

Natsume scared Atsushi because after all that-- after falling (jumping) off a bridge-- all he could say was, “Sorry” and then had the nerve to tell them they were going to catch a cold.

Natsume brushed it off like it was an accident and Atsushi and Nishimura helped him do it. They always did when it was clear he didn’t want to talk about what he saw. 

But it wasn’t an accident. Something that wasn't there scared Natsume enough to choose jumping off a bridge over being drawn into its clutches. And that might have been what scared Atsushi the most. It wasn't that Natsume wasn’t level headed, but that he was.

When Nishimura was going to do something ridiculous or dangerous, Atsushi could generally logic him out of that decision. But Natsume made rational decisions that ended with throwing himself off bridges because it made the most sense within the parameters his mind provided for him. His logic was different, like he lived in a different world, and it was dangerous.

“Natsume?” Atsushi looked behind him to where Natsume had come to a quiet stop on the bridge to Nishimura’s house. 

Natsume didn’t answer him, staring ahead and above Atsushi's head. He took half a step backward and his eyes unfocused in that way they sometimes got. 

Atsushi's heart seized. 

Normally, the group would all stop. They would talk and try to draw Natsume into conversation while waiting for him to come back to himself. Sometimes they wouldn’t be able to stop Natsume from running off. In that case, Tanuma or Taki would tell everyone else to let them handle it, running off after their friend. 

But there wasn’t a group now, no Tanuma or Taki. Not even a Nishimura to provide a distraction. 

“I have to…” Natsume took another small step back, placing all his weight on his retreating leg like he was about to turn and break into a sprint. Natsume’s ugly cat stood at Natsume’s feet, too big eyes staring at Atsushi with more clarity than Natsume was at the moment. 

Before either of them knew it, Atsushi’s hand was around Natsume’s wrist.

“Don’t.” It probably wasn’t the right thing to do, holding Natsume there. Atsushi knew it wasn’t. But Natsume had started to look both ways like jumping off this bridge too was a viable option and Atsushi didn’t know what else to do. There was no one to chase after Natsume, no one to make sure he didn’t hurt himself running from his phantoms. 

Atsushi and Natsume had been friends for a year now. Atsushi realized he had reached his limit. He couldn’t continue to stand by and watch Natsume run off to solve his problems all alone. 

“Kitamoto, please, there’s something I have to do. I’ll meet you at Nishimura’s house soon,”

Atsushi could feel Natsume’s panicked pulse through his grip on Natsume’s bony wrist. Natsume was such a liar.

“I’ll go with you,”

“That’s not--”

“You can’t cross this bridge, right?” Natsume blinked at him, and his eyes darted behind Kitamoto. The cat clawed its way up Natsume’s clothes to rest on its owner’s shoulder. “We don’t have to. We can go another way. I don’t mind.” After a moment of silence, Atsushi let go of Natsume’s wrist. “Sorry.” He looked away, hoping Natsume didn’t take the opportunity to run. Atsushi didn’t know what he’d do if he did. Back in the beginning, Atsushi and Nishimura had let him go, but now they were too close now for Atsushi to let him run off alone and afraid.

“It’s not that I have to go another way.”

Atsushi looked back up to see Natsume watching him instead of whatever he saw on the bridge. His unfocused eyes and words, delicate and unsure as a glass statue balanced on a shaking palm, caused a fierce surge of protectiveness in Atsushi. 

“Then what do we have to do?” Natsume paused again to look out over the bridge and then down into the water below them. The cat shifted to accommodate the change. “You can tell me. Whatever it is we can do it, even if it sounds strange or doesn’t make sense.” Atsushi rushed out, also looking down at the water. It was calm and clear, but that didn’t mean Atsushi wanted Natsume going for another unplanned swim.

The cat meowed. Natsume’s hand rose to grip its head, squeezing it close to his face in a way that didn’t look comfortable for either of them. The cat shifted again but didn’t try to wriggle away. 

“Can I crawl?” Natsume asked, voice as small as his hunched shoulders made him look.

“How low?”

“What?”

“A toddler crawl or an army crawl?”

“A--” Natsume looked back at the bridge, above it and then closer to the ground, “--an army crawl,”

“Okay, let’s do it.” Atsushi bent his knees and lowered himself to the ground. Natsume reached a hand forward as if to stop him. His cat jumped off his shoulder to sit next to Atsushi.

“You don’t have to. You’ll get your shirt dirty and--”

“Nope. Too late. We’re army crawling across this bridge. Last one to the other end buys lunch tomorrow.”

“Kitamoto--”

“Natsume.” Their eyes locked. The tense confusion melted from Natsume’s face, morphing into something different. He stared at Kitamoto with his shutters open and everything inside-- wobbly tables holding poorly glued back together vases, ugly words scrawled on the walls with marker and all desperate attempts to scrub them obvious in the way the paint around them peeled, and buckets of new paint and gold lacquer sitting in the corner half used and waiting for the smallest of instigations to finish their work-- exposed.

Atsushi's gut hallowed and his throat clogged with fear. Never in his life had he felt like he had more power than at that moment. No one should ever have had this sort of power. He could only hope that, after this, Natsume was never caught so far off guard by simple human decency that he gave that power away the way he just had to Atsushi. Or even better, next time the truth shone through, they would have painted over the walls, reinforced the table, and put the vases back together with gold rather than lies. Then this sort of power wouldn’t exist anymore at all. Atsushi could help with that. Atsushi, Nishimura, Tanuma, Taki, Sasada, and Touko and Shigeru-san; they could all help with that.

“Your cat’s going to win,” Atsushi said softer than such a ridiculous sentence should have warranted. It was true, though. The cat had abandoned the both of them to instead begin waddling the rest of the way across the bridge. Natsume blinked after it. His face closed back into something less amazed and trusting (too trusting to be reasonable repayment for the easy act that had revealed it). But when he looked back at Atsushi the usual iron shutters had been replaced with curtains.

Natsume joined Atsushi on the road. Together they raced across the bridge on their stomachs.

They spent the rest of the walk brushing off dirt and pulling small pebbles from their clothes and palms. Natsume kept glancing at Atsushi and shrinking away, no doubt waiting for the other shoe to drop or for the questions to start.

“How much you want to bet Nishimura hasn’t even finished the first question of the review?” Atsushi asked instead.

Natsume didn’t answer for a long while.

“That’s a loser’s bet,” he hazarded at last. Atsushi chuckled and Natsume joined him. He hoped Natsume remembered this, remembered how much better it was this way. Atsushi wasn’t left wondering where Natsume had run off to and whether he was okay. Natsume wasn’t alone.

Next week, Atsushi and Natsume were the first to arrive on the roof for lunch. Atsushi was already sitting, but Natsume stood and stared at his usual spot for a full thirty seconds. His eyes darted to Atsushi. Then, without looking again, he bent down and ran his hands over his spot on the ground like he was brushing something off of it. 

“Do you want help? Or do you need me to get up?” Atsushi asked in the same offhanded tone he might ask if he needed to borrow a pencil. Natsume froze and, after a moment, shook his head. “Alright.” Atsushi began to unwrap his lunch as Natsume finished. By the time everyone else had joined them, Natsume was sitting without a problem and Atsushi didn’t say a thing about it.

After that, Natsume became more and more comfortable with asking for ‘strange favors’ or acting without explanation. It wasn’t perfect. Sometimes he would still run away faster than anybody could ask him to stay. Sometimes he would hold himself with such a still concentration that it was obvious he was trying not to mention something. But it was progress. Every time they didn’t mention it or helped him out, more and more of that honest light radiated out of his eyes, no longer hidden behind the curtains. 

Natsume scared Atsushi.

Natsume scared Atsushi because Natsume’s problems, from the loss of his family to the scars of his childhood to his psychosis, were too much like the ones Atsushi faced elsewhere (at home, in the realm of adulthood): without simple solutions.

But…

Simple solutions had always been an illusion, hadn’t they? Having Sasada teach them didn’t get rid of the unreasonable amount of weight she placed on her schoolwork. Getting Nishimura out of the house didn't erase his family problems. Distracting Natsume from his own head and following certain rituals to keep monsters away wasn’t a solution. 

And yet... all those things helped. They weren't solutions, but they made his friends feel better. 

Natsume scared Atsushi because he reminded him the world wasn’t all black and white. But Atsushi was always happy to do things that made the people around him feel better. Helping Natsume was no different than catering to Sasada or Nishimura. He just had to be a bit more open-minded with his ‘simple solutions.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kitamoto and Nishimura are amazing. They're amazing friends and I love them so much.


	4. Nishimura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsume is kind, gentle, and protective of his friends. Natsume is also Satoru's friend. These, Satoru knows, are the facts that matter.

Satoru had found Natsume Takashi strange at first. Everyone had found Natsume Takashi strange at first. His strangeness existed as objective undeniable truth. His too pale features accentuated the animal color of his not-right shaped eyes. He put a clear amount of effort into trying to making eye contact, and when he managed it he never looked at anyone so much as through them. He ran and stopped and made all kinds of sudden movements without explanation. How could Satoru be blamed for finding any of that strange?

But then he got to know Natsume. So while he now knew Natsume to be-- without a doubt-- strange in some ways, he also knew Natsume to be a great person and one of the best friends anyone could ever have.

Which was part of what made it so difficult to see him detached from reality.

He became used to smiling for Natsume when things weren't okay. A system developed between them all: Natsume did something dangerous, made an excuse for it, and Satoru and Kitamoto smiled and swallowed it, no matter how it stuck in their throats. They grinned and choked it down.

Satoru's mind wandered often, more than he’s proud, to the heaviest pill he had to swallow in favor of smiling and assuring Natsume. He still remembered the sharp anger in Natsume’s eyes, Natsume’s hands digging into his shoulders, Natsume shaking him back and forth as he yelled at Satoru about not being allowed to hurt his friends.

He remembered the way his heart had pounded in his throat. He remembered it being, to his shame, the first time he felt afraid not for Natsume, but of Natsume. It didn’t last long, but Satoru had never seen Natsume’s eyes like that, not unfocused or far away, but angry and hateful. And drilling right into him.

As usual, Natsume snapped out of it and ran off, so Satoru had a moment to compose himself before facing his friend again.

Tanuma provided an explanation about mosquitoes. Satoru and Kitamoto did their part by pretending to accept it. Though under his smile, Satoru’s heart continued to beat too fast.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kitamoto asked so only he could hear as they followed Tanuma out to find Natsume.

“Ya, of course, fine,”

“... He didn’t mean--”

“I know! Of course, I know!" Satoru managed a moment of offense, but he knew Kitamoto could see right through it. He always could. "I've... I’ve never seen his eyes like that. He looked like he hated me… and I’m getting a bit of a headache. From the shaking. I guess it freaked me out… is that bad of me? I know Natsume would never hurt me, hell, he couldn’t hurt a fly… but _that_ Natsume…”

“... I think that’s a natural reaction. It took you by surprise, especially since we’re used to him running away instead of… that.”

Tanuma stuck his head through a few doors before turning down a different hallway and the two of them followed. 

“Do… do you think it’s time to bring it up? Natsume would hat it if he hurt someone. If we show him that we support him and don’t think any different of him…”

“Do you think he’s ready for that? If he wants to keep things personal, is it our place to make him tell us?” Kitamoto asked. Satoru shrugged. "And he is doing better, you know that. He implies things to us or asks for favors even though he knows they're strange. He's learning to open up. Rushing that won't help."

True. but... 

“It would be better if…” Satoru didn’t know. 

“... How about a compromise? We... make some assumptions. When we get home, we look up ways to help. Like, what to do to help Natsume when he’s seeing things. We don’t mention it to him, but we’ll be ready if he ever needs us.”

Kitamoto always knew what to do. Satoru nodded, relieved with the suggestion. They hadn't wanted to infringe on Natsume's privacy, but... 

At that point, Tanuma started to lead them down the stairs to look outside. They never made it, though, because Natsume met them halfway down. Satoru put on a smile, glad to realize it felt more genuine as his nerves and brief adrenaline rush drained. Especially when Natsume spoke.

“Nishimura, sorry for being weird back there.” Casual, not forced, not scared. In the early days, Natsume would have given that apology with a few more sorrys and fidgeting and sometimes real fear in his eyes. But Natsume trusted them now. He knew they wouldn’t freak out or make him explain himself. Satoru laughed.

“Jeez, don’t get so scared over a bug.” No matter what, Natsume was still Natsume.

That day almost six months ago filled Satoru’s head as Natsume ignored his voice for the third time.

“Natsume… Natsume…” Satoru repeated with forced calm. They sat on the side of the dirt path home because Natsume had tackled him to the ground during their walk. Natsume kneeled curled over Satoru, arms around Satoru’s shoulders and ducking over his head as if shielding him from something. Satoru couldn’t see Natsume’s face, but he could tell by the dig of Natsume’s chin in his scalp that he directed his focus back onto the path. 

Satoru recited in his head everything he and Kitamoto had tired to learn.

“Natsume, can you tell me what’s happening?” He asked, lifting an arm to grab onto Natsume’s sleeve in a way that Satoru hoped grounded him. 

“Leave him alone,” Natsume said, not answering Satoru but rather speaking in the direction of the road, voice raspy, low, and more commanding than Satoru even knew it could go. Satoru took even breaths and Natsume’s body rose and fell with his own.

“Natsume, please tell me what’s happening.”

He felt Natsume’s head shift like he wanted to look down at Satoru, but he didn't answer.

“I’m not giving him to you,” he continued to speak to the road.

The hairs on the back of Satoru's neck rose. There was something chilling about being so completely ignored for the sake of thin air. Where was Natsume’s ugly cat? More often than not he could pull Natsume out of these in a near instant.

“Natsume, please,”

As the silence stretched on, Satoru though Natsume would continue to ignore him, but then:

“... It’s… nothing. It’s…” Natsume’s voice when he spoke to Satoru sounded soft and ethereal like it floated on a breeze. Decidedly different from the sharp voice he used to confront his hallucination.

“Okay, then can we get up?” Satoru asked, trying to keep his voice even like he didn’t care one way or another.

“No!” That tone existed somewhere in-between Natsume’s other two, not raspy, still soft, but also definitive and commanding. He paused and Satoru thought he could feel the air pressing on them. “… she wants to eat you.” 

Okay. Okay, what now? What was he supposed to do next? Ummm, call name, done, ask what’s up, done… Wasn’t he supposed to tell Natsume it was a hallucination? Yes, but before that... (did he have to do them in order? He couldn't remember.)

“Okay. Are you scared?”

Another pause, shorter this time. 

“I’ll keep you safe. She won’t touch you. I promise. I wo-- I said don’t touch him! Go away!” Natsume jerked their bodies back so he could cover more of Satoru, torso over Satoru’s head now. Satoru felt the clamminess of Natsume’s fingers and the fluttering rise and fall of his chest as his lungs worked unnecessary overtime. Satoru’s throat clogged and his heart warmed. Some form of calm washed over him. This thing was very real to Natsume and it obviously terrified him. Yet he used himself to protect Satoru. Satoru felt kind of touched. 

“Thank you.” Hopefully, he could return some of the favor. Next step, umm… name, ask for a description, ask about feelings… okay. He could do this. He had never said the word out loud to Natsume before and he didn't know what the reaction would be. It didn't feel like the right thing to say. Wouldn't it be better to play along? But he swallowed his objections and deferred to the experts. “I want you to know I don’t see anything. You’re having a hallucination, Natsume.”

Because of the extensive points of contact, Satoru could feel the exact way Natsume’s muscles bunched in response. For a second, he thought Natsume would let go and run away like he often did when caught hallucinating, but, instead, he took a deep breath and began to whisper.

“... Nishimura... I can't... I know, but-- What do you want?!--” His head shot around, Satoru flinched, “... I… I can’t… right now, please…” Natsume’s arms tightened and drew upwards. Satoru did the same with the fingers he had on Natsume’s arm, now around his neck. “I need to-- What? No! I’m not making that deal!” 

Satoru didn’t feel Natsume was listening to him, more occupied with haggling with thin air. Satoru wanted to try again, almost opened his mouth to do so, but a voice that sounded a lot like Kitimoto stopped him. _You’re not supposed to fight with him about it. It’ll make him feel he can’t trust you_. Right. He didn't want the usual running away and never mentioning it again deal. He wanted Natsume to be able to trust them with this, to let them help. So what could he do? How could he help Natsume?... Well, he knew one easy way to find out.

“Okay. Can I help?”

“What?”

“Can… we can ask it to go away together? Maybe it’ll listen to the both of us. Or we can run?”

“I told you I’m not taking that deal!... No, you can’t eat him. I’m not giving him to you for anything!”

“Natsume, please talk to _me_.” The arms around him tightened, one pressing against his neck, but Natsume stayed occupied by the vision. “Okay, what deal does it want to make? Maybe we could make a different one?” Satoru tried instead. He still felt Natsume trembling, terrified and unsure. The unfairness of it all struck Satoru. Why should Natsume have to fight these sorts of demons above everything else that had already happened in his life? Didn't he deserve a break? Why should he have to be scared of things no one else could even see?

“A different one?” Natsume responded, much to Satoru’s relief.

“Ya. How about…” Satoru fished around in his pockets with one hand, the other still holding Natsume’s sleeve. He pulled out a gold foil candy wrapper, a small white button, a ball of tangled threads, and five-hundred and fifty yen in the form of two coins. “Hmmm. Maybe don’t make a trade. It would suck to know my life is only worth a couple hundred yen.”

“Nishimura.” For the first time, Natsume’s face left the path to instead give Satoru a straight on look of exasperation. It lasted only a second but Satoru counted it as a win.

“Well? Will it take it?”

“It’s not going to--” Natsume cut himself off. “She… she likes the button and the fifty yen coin,” he sighed. 

Satoru smiled. It seemed like a sign that the danger had passed, as Natsume’s muscles relaxed and he leaned back so he no longer covered Satoru in his entirety. 

“Great! Tell… her… she can have them if she lets us go.”

Natsume nodded and rocked onto his heels. He continued to stare past Satoru’s head, but at least he didn’t seem frightened out of his mind anymore. 

“Just… just leave them on the path,” he said as his hands dug into Satoru’s shoulders. Satoru got up, knees aching and shoulder stiff, to do as told. Natsume didn't wait a moment after that before spinning Satoru around and marching them towards their homes. Satoru wondered when Natsume had gained enough strength in his arms to actually make Satoru feel like he had to keep walking. He very well remembered the Natsume that had been introduced to their class almost two years ago now. That Natsume would never have been able to make Satoru move a step in any direction… not physically, anyway (because, to be honest, there weren't a lot of things he wouldn't do if Natsume asked him to). 

Natsume had come a long way from that boy… and in a lot of ways, so had Satoru. All changed for the better, he thought.

After a mile or so, Natsume began to slow down. He let go of Satoru’s shoulders and moved to walk alongside him, quiet. The silence interrupted only by the rustling of leaves created a peaceful atmosphere as the sun set. Sataru stuck his hands in his pockets and lazed forward for a few minutes.

“... you don’t mind,” Natsume said, disrupting the quiet.

“Hmmm?”

“It doesn’t bother you… that I see things.” Satoru would have been offended, but Natsume wasn’t asking. There was no question in his words, just a bit of awe. Anyway, Satoru’s mind and body were too busy working double time to think about it. They were talking about it. Natsume was actually talking about it. Satoru felt what he thought all the appropriate awe of having earned Natsume’s trust to such a degree. “You, Kitamoto, the Fujiwaras… none of you mind.”

A question still had yet to be asked, but Satoru answered anyway.

“Nope.” He popped the p, going for as casual as he could manage in his drummed up state. Beside him, Natsume shook his head. They walked for a few more minutes. The next time Natsume spoke, Satoru could hear his smile and his awe. 

“You guys are all crazy,”

“What's wrong with that?”

Natsume shook his head again. He looked up at Satoru, a little hesitant, as light shone through his clear eyes, golden in the sunset.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you'll see I've marked this story as complete. I guess if you like this story, you'll be glad to know that's not completely official. When I first started i had four ideas, one for each of these characters. However, given the nature of this as essentially one-shots, there's always room for more, and I've gotten a few interesting ideas I might be motivated to write someday. Basically, if I do update again it won't be on schedule, and I've marked it as complete because it might as well be, but I might add more.
> 
> On that note, some of the ideas I've gotten have been from the comments, so if you have something you would be interested in seeing in this verse, please let me know. it might interest me as well. Same rules apply as do to the posted chapters  
> 1\. ambiguous supernatural / mental illness  
> 2\. no pov of someone who would have to know what's going on (or Sasada, because she's convinced she knows what's going on and i don't know how to portray her pov in a world where she might be wrong).  
> Everything else is on the table... well, not everything. please use your discretion. i want to be able to trust this fandom XD You don't want to know what kind of requests i've gotten on other stories in the past when i leave things open like that. *sigh* 
> 
> Anyway, even if you don't have any request, as always, I'd love to hear your two cents. And if this is the last chapter in a while, thank you all for reading and following along with me. this story really was a passionate case of 'write what you want to read' and i'm so glad it hit the mark with so many other people who were thinking similar things. Thank you all.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few thoughts on Natsume Takashi. I want to keep this ambiguous to whether it's canon universe or not, so that means no Natori, Taki, Madara, or Tanuma pov, because then I would have to pick a side. They will be missed. ˛(ˊʙˋ)੭˒˒
> 
> Also, I'm neurotypical, so if something's straight wrong or offensive, please let me know.
> 
>  
> 
> Even if you can't chip in, you can visit my page and see some exclusive content for this story. In this case, the little blurb that was my original idea for this fic with insight into the central theme, a bit of my research underneath it including what Nishimura is talking about, a long analysis on the themes I wrote trying to respond to all the reviews at once (located in the Gallery under 'Reflections on Thin Air', and some ideas for where i might take this concept. 
> 
> Thank you!


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